The Garden

In shadows deep, where sunlight fades,
A garden rests in twilight's shades.
The flowers droop, their colors pale,
As whispers of the night prevail.

A lone gardener, tools in hand,
Stands on soil that’s turned to sand.
He knows the seeds of hope must grow,
Yet fears the path he must bestow.

With trembling hands, he plants a seed,
Unsure if it will meet his need.
The earth resists, but he persists,
Dreaming of the blooms he’s missed.

Each day he tends with gentle care,
Battling doubts that linger there.
Raindrops fall and sunlight gleams,
Nurturing his fragile dreams.

In time, a sprout begins to rise,
A hint of green beneath the skies.
Though small and frail, it holds the light,
A beacon in the darkest night.

And so he learns the art of hope,
In every bud, a chance to grow.
For in the garden of his mind,
He finds the strength to heal, to find.